Perfect Storm
by R-I-C-A-R-D
Summary: The cycle begins anew as the Reapers begin the destruction of all galactic life. The hopes of an entire galaxy rest on the crew of the SSV Normandy.
1. Chapter 1

**The Last Stand**  
><strong>London, 2186<strong>

_We are going to need bigger guns_ – Shepard, Mass Effect

"Lieutenant Storm, a salarian's requesting an audience," the runner reported. Like many in Admiral Anderson's resistance, he was young and, before the invasion, had never held a gun in his life. After weeks of fighting, though, he carried his sidearm as an extension of his body. First Lieutenant Hayley Storm, callsign Hailstorm nodded. Her reassignment to active duty status after three years in the private sector had come with an offer of a promotion to the rank of Captain, conveniently leapfrogging staff lieutenant, lieutenant commander and finally staff commander. "Yeah," humanity's first Spectre had nodded when told of the offer, "The brass is handing out promotions and commendations like candy." After a moment, she asked, "You accepting the promotion?"

Hailstorm had snorted, "Hell no. I got most of my platoon killed on Torfan. I won't be responsible for the lives of an entire company."

Shepard looked hard at the younger woman and even after weeks serving on the SR2 _Normandy_, the orange glow of Shepard's cybernetics gave Hayley the creeps. "What happened on Torfan wasn't your fault, Hayley. I read the after action reports. Your CO should have received a medical discharge well before then. He was code six." Hayley nodded and stayed silent. 'Code six' was Alliance shorthand for 'batshit crazy.' That Major Kyle had ended up leading a cult of disenchanted biotics years later as some sort of messiah only proved it. None of which made her actions at the time any easier to live with.

Hayley shook herself clear of her reverie and nodded to the runner. "Bring him over, Pryce."

The Londoner nodded, "Very good, Ma'am," and departed at a jog, his one size too large riot armour threatening to slip from his upper body. _There are only two sizes in this man's army,_ the gruff NCO in charge of procurement had told Hayley during her first combat deployment. _Too large and too small._

Two minutes later, Pryce returned with three squads of lightly armoured salarians. "Major Kirahee, Third Infiltration Regiment, STG. My men and I are at your disposal, Lieutenant," the lead salarian introduced himself, gesturing to the troopers behind him.

It was probably the lack of sleep given she'd been on her feet almost twelve hours but Hayley was certain she'd misheard. "Uh, with respect, Major, shouldn't I be taking orders from you?"

Kirahee shook his head. "Your people have been on the ground much longer than we have and they know the area. This is your world. We'll take our lead from you."

Nodding her acceptance of this – a salarian major from the vaunted special tasks group taking orders from a junior officer? Sure, why the hell not? - Hayley's gaze flickered over the salarians in Kirahee's unit. Her lips curved upward in a small smile as she took in one salarian carrying an M76 Revenant machine gun as though it weighed nothing. She nodded to the major. "How many of those guns do you have?"

Kirahee looked over his shoulder at the heavy gunner. "Enough to outfit a fire team, lieutenant."

Hayley's smile widened and despite the dark circles around her eyes and smoke-darkened skin, the smile turned her pretty features into something quite beautiful to behold. "Good. We can use them up on the firing line. The Reapers broke through our lines in the last push and we lost half of Third Company trying to push the bastards back."

Kirahee waved his men forward. "Commander Rentola will lead the fire team."

Hayley tapped at her omni-tool interface. "I'll upload the co-ordinates to your hardsuit computer, Commander." After a moment she nodded and raised a hand to the comm built into her helmet, opening a connection with the officer on the front lines. "Captain Reynolds?"

"What occasions the call, Lieutenant?" Reynolds answered. Tall and roguishly handsome, the marine captain cut quite a dashing figure in his brown coat. Every time she saw him, Hayley felt as though she'd seen him somewhere before. In a vid, perhaps.

"I'm sending up a salarian fire team to help patch the hole in your lines."

"Shiny."

Cutting the connection, Hayley turned to Rentola. "He'll be expecting you. Look for the guy in the brown coat." As Commander Rentola's squad departed, Hayley turned back to Kirahee, mentally reviewing the resistance's troop deployment in the sector. Pointing to a three-storey parking garage a half-klick away, she said, "Have your snipers report to Captain Leena. She has her asari commandos up there. Kirahee nodded and directed his troops as requested. As the salarian sniper team departed, voice tight with barely concealed panic cut across the tactical frequency. "Reaper forces have mounted a serious offensive at grid co-ordinates Bravo-Six-Echo. All squads, engage!"

Sliding the Mantis sniper rifle from its hardpoint on the back of her armour, Hayley nodded to the salarian major. "The rest of you, with me."

Jogging across the torn up pavement of London's streets and dodging around piles of fallen masonry, Hayley could hear the chatter of small-arms fire from the resistance fighters as well as the heavier crack and thump of the professional Alliance soldiers' weapons. Everything happening on the ground was purely a holding action, aimed at keeping the attention of the Reaper forces until the Crucible currently in high orbit could move into firing position. Hayley had no clue as to how a weapon fired from Earth, even something as massive in scope as the Crucible was rumoured to be could defeat the Reapers in every theatre of war but she had no choice but to trust Shepard.

Hayley glanced to her right; the salarian major was easily keeping up with her long-legged strides, she was glad to see. Arriving at the besieged flank of the Alliance lines, she activated her tactical cloak and slid into position at a bullet-riddled section of cover. "Impressive," Kirrahe muttered as he bunkered down beside her.

"I'd marry it if I could," Hayley replied. Taking advantage of the cloaking field, she rose from cover and took a few precious seconds to sight in on the most promising target – one of the reaperised turians Alliance Intel referred to as Marauders. All Hayley knew about them was they acted as field commanders for lesser Reaper forces and that their heads exploded nicely when met with hypersonic rounds.

Ignoring the smoke and mayhem of the battle raging around her, Hayley found what she was seeking and, steadying her breathing, gently stroked the trigger. The marauder toppled backwards, everything form the lower jawbone on up gone in a spray of gore. Heedless of its loss, the cannibals and husks pressed their assault on the Alliance position. Wielding his Scorpion pistol with practised ease, Kirrahe dispatched several of the enemy with the sidearm's signature adhesive explosive rounds. Hayley glanced at the major and smirked. "OK, that's just showing off."

"Heads up, Lieutenant," Kirahee said mildly as a husk, left arm gone at the shoulder lurched to within reach of their position. Dropping the rifle, Hayley drew her backup weapon, a lovingly customised Tempest SMG, released the safety and pulverised the former human's skull with a burst of shredder rounds. "God _damn_ but I hate those things."

A cry of pain from further up the line came on the heels of a panicked shout. "They're all around us, man!"

Raising his voice to make himself heard over the din of battle, Kirrahe called, "Hold the line, men! Hold the line."

Cloaking once more, Hayley retrieved her rifle, ejected the spent heatsink and slid a fresh one into the receiver, cursing under her breath the committee responsible for implementing thermal clip technology in the first place. With the grim knowledge that supplies dwindled with every assault, Hayley took advantage of her armour's stealth capability and forged into no man's land, recovering what she could from the battlefield. One such foray had resulted in her claiming a Hydra missile launcher capable of firing warheads at multiple targets simultaneously. A gunner in Third Company's heavy weapons squad gleefully made use of it shortly afterwards, reducing an entire platoon worth of Reaper forces to a stain on the ground.

Presently, she sighted and fired several more times before her store of clips ran out, reducing her to her spray and pray weapon. Bringing up her omni-tool interface, she unleashed the incinerator unit integrated into her armour's left arm, immolating a group of husks. She shot a worried glance at Kirrahe. "How many more of them are there?"

He shook his head, "I do not know, lieutenant. This is it, their last push. Can you feel the desperation in the air?"

Instinctively, Hayley ducked behind her cover as yet more shots rang out.

Coming up once more, she offered up a brief wish to the universe at large _Come on Shepard, make all this death mean something._

**Author's Note**

So here I am on the 'I played Mass Effect 3 and decided to write fan fiction' bandwagon. Let me start by saying what this story _isn't._ It isn't a 'novelization' of Mass Effect 3. And it isn't an attempt to address 'that ending'. What it is is a series of loosely connected chapters mostly revolving around an OC I made up some time ago, Hayley Storm. Those of you who have read Fade To Black will be familiar with her. For those who aren't read it. It's heaps good :)


	2. Chapter 2

**The Invasion  
>San Francisco, 2186<strong>

Shepard: "I want to talk about something else."  
>Tali: "Like what?"<br>Shepard: "I should go."  
>Tali: "See you later."<p>

Mass Effect

_Six weeks earlier_

From the moment she arrived at the spaceport, the woman clad in faded jeans and hooded _Impeach Udina_ sweatshirt put Captain Zarah Collins on edge. Put her _more _on edge, given the current state of affairs planet-side. As impossible as it was to believe, Earth, the very cradle of humanity was even now under assault by unbelievably powerful engines of destruction panicked newsreaders were calling 'Reapers.' Zarah called them 'fucked up looking giant squid-things.' Explosions rent the air, expanding pressure waves shattering windows in cars and buildings for kilometres around. Tall, gracefully designed skyscrapers and towers first shook then collapsed amid the dust and smoke of their own destruction as the vast machines levelled all before them.

Without waiting for clearance from the control tower, Zarah and the crew of the freighter _Life Begins _were making ready to vacate the premises. If they could reach the Charon relay before the fucked up looking giant squid-things could blockade it or worse, destroy it utterly, they could plot a course to the Citadel. The aliens may have disregarded the prior warnings of humanity's first Spectre but there was no way they could deny the reality of what was happening now. So was the hope, at least. The Citadel would provide a safe haven from which they could all gain some perspective and plan their next move.

"Next move?" Zarah's niece and engineer scoffed. "How about not die? How's _that _for a next move?"

"Make sure the eezo core's balanced," was all Zarah said in reply. Some hope; _Life Begins'_ eezo core _never_ balanced. Regardless, with a final look at the destruction of down town San Francisco, Jenna nodded and half-ran up the freighter's boarding ramp.

Zarah turned to join her when the sound of sneakered feet slapping on ferrocrete brought her around. Standing before her, windblown blonde hair in disarray stood a tall, slim woman, whose manner, despite the civilian attire, screamed Military. Or, almost as bad, Ex Military. _At least she isn't armed, be thankful for small mercies _Zarah told herself.

Zarah pulled herself up to her full height of five foot five and clasped her hands behind her back, the way she'd seen naval officers do so in various vids. Her attempt at projecting a commanding aura was somewhat ruined as windblown smoke triggered a coughing fit.  
>The blonde waited her out and, once Zarah was again capable of normal respiration asked, "Are you the captain of this ship?"<p>

"Yes," Zarah replied with an effort, feeling her breath catch in her throat. _That isn't roasting human flesh you can smell on the wind,_ she reassured herself. _It just isn't._ "I am. Look," she went on, hoping to forestall what she knew was about to ensue. "I'm really not in a position to provide a passenger service right this minute." She tilted her head in the direction of the Fall of Earth as some pundits had already dubbed it.

Apparently not hearing her, the blonde waved windblown dust from her hazel eyes and replied, "I need to get to Mars. Now. Today."

Zarah laughed at the absurdity of it all. "Mars? Honey, Mars is in the exact _opposite_ direction we're going in." Demonstrating with her hands, Zarah said, "Mars is _that_ way. We're going _this _way. See?"

The woman wearing the _Impeach_ _Udina_ sweatshirt folded her arms over her slim chest. "I'm prepared to pay double your usual fee."

For a moment, pure greed over-rode common sense and Zarah made a counter offer, "Triple."

Impeach Udina shrugged and nodded. "Fine."

Zarah ground her teeth together in frustration. "God damn it. What's on Mars that's worth risking my ship for, anyway?"

"Shepard," the other woman replied, walking towards the embarkation ramp. "My information says the _Normandy _is headed for Mars."

"Uh huh," Zarah replied, unconvinced. "_My_ information says the Alliance brass relieved Shepard of command and grounded the _Normandy."_

Impeach Udina spun on her heel and rounded on Zarah. "Look around!" she shouted, encompassing the destruction with a wave of her arm. "You really think Shepard is going sit around while _this_ is happening?"

Her own anger rising, Zarah shot back, "OK so what? What makes _you_ so special that I should risk my life to help you? Who the hell _are you_, anyway?"

As though approving of the outburst, the woman smiled and nodded before coming to attention and formally introducing herself. "First Lieutenant Hayley Storm, Alliance Marine Corps." After a moment she added in a softer voice "Retired."

Zarah rolled her eyes. "Well that's just bloody great that is. I'm about to deliver an ex-marine to bloody Mars and probably die in the attempt because she apparently has delusions of competency and believes Shepard can't fight the fucked up looking giant squid-things without her!"

Hayley chuckled. "Fucked up looking giant squid-things? I like that."

* * *

><p>"So," Zarah said at length, sipping from a goblet of red, 2170 vintage. She'd been saving it for a special occasion but decided occasions did not get much more special than 'fled invasion of fucked up looking giant squid-things without incident.'<br>With _Life Begins_ making best speed to Mars, Zarah had retired to her cabin aboard the modified Kowloon class freighter, her 'passenger' in tow. Like most everything else aboard, _Life Begins'_ captain's cabin was a cramped affair and due to a quirk of the decades-old recycling systems, the canned air within the ship always smelled faintly of boiled cabbage.

"This _information_ you say you have on Shepard, what exactly is it?" Zarah continued, her gaze pinned on this Lieutenant Storm as the retired officer – _she doesn't look thirty yet, who retires that young?_ - directed her attention at the room's contents – a simple bunk, metal desk and chair bolted to the deck and little else.

The blonde woman turned her gaze to the captain as the ship's master and commander poured another drink. She hadn't offered Hayley a glass the first time and seemed disinclined to start now. Hayley didn't mind; she had more or less bribed her way onto the ship and catering requirements hadn't entered into the rather one-sided negotiations. As bad as things were on Earth right now, Hayley knew they could have been far worse for her personally – due to pure dumb luck, her family – husband Bill and her brother, his wife and children had departed for the Citadel days earlier for a holiday.

She smiled at the thought – only her sister-in-law would consider holidaying on the Citadel when most other people fled the madding crowds of the massive space station for the relative peace of Earth. Hayley made a mental note to buy Karen a big bunch of flowers or something to say 'thanks.' To the captain she said, "I own...used to own, I suppose, a security consulting firm on Earth. I do some work for a volus merchant on occasion. He's also an agent of the Shadow Broker."

Zarah's eyes widened; the Shadow Broker was the most notorious information trader in the galaxy. Zarah took another sip of wine, cautioning herself to go easy on it. Zarah Collins drunk was not a pretty sight. Zarah Collins drunk _and_ in charge of a spacecraft wasn't something she cared to contemplate. Putting the wine glass aside, Zarah asked, "And this volus just _happened_ to have classified info on where Shepard is heading?"

Hayley shrugged her slim shoulders. "That's how it works. You think just because something is 'classified' – Hayley made air quotes with her fingers - "That somebody in the chain of command won't sell it to an information broker?" Under her breath, she muttered, "Cost me thirty thousand credits. God damn."

Zarah chuckled. "And here I am charging you triple the usual fee. I almost feel sorry for you."

"Shut up and give me the bottle."


	3. Chapter 3

**The Beginning of the End  
><strong>**London, 2186**

Joker: "What does a turian do when he runs out of ammo?"  
>Garrus: "He switches to the stick up his ass as a backup weapon."<br>Mass Effect 3

Crying out in horror, Hayley sprinted over the uneven rubble-strewn ground towards Shepard's lifeless form. As she ran, Hayley attempted to blink away the purple-red after-images of the Reaper's main gun – the same weapon that only moments earlier had swept over Shepard, Vega and Williams, momentarily turning the storm-wracked night piercingly bright. Heedless of the synthetic behemoth looming above her, the lieutenant screamed as she ran, "Shepard! James! Ash! Somebody talk to me!" Hayley staggered the final few feet towards where the commander lay motionless in an expanding pool of blood, her heart pounding so hard she felt her eyes quivering in their sockets.

Simultaneously weeping and gasping for air, Hayley collapsed to her knees beside the fallen woman, heedless of the blood soaking into the outer fabric layer of her armour. "Oh God, Shepard no..." she moaned. Through her tear-streaked vision Hayley witnessed a kind of perverse miracle – Shepard's right hand twitched and her eyes flickered beneath their bloodied lids. Despite the horrific injuries inflicted upon her, the Spectre somehow clung to life.

The Reaper's energy beam had partially melted Shepard's armour, brutally scything away the sleeves of both arms, the flesh beneath bloodied and charred. Hands shaking, Hayley ripped open a packet of medi-gel then dropped it to the rain and blood soaked ground. A single pack of medi-gel? That would be barely enough to anaesthetise the burns on one arm. Shepard's eyes rolled open as she registered the presence beside her and, slowly, painfully her head turned to the right. Through blood-stained lips she whispered, "Hayley?"

Choking back sobs, the lieutenant nodded. "Yeah, it's me. I...don't try to move, I'll get help." Lamely she added, "You'll be OK, you'll see."

Blood leaking from the corner of her mouth, Shepard replied, "I think we both know you're bullshitting me..." she trailed off, coughing.

"_MEDIC!" _Hayley screamed, "_I NEED A MEDIC OVER HERE!"_

Biting back a pained moan, Shepard levered her elbows up beneath her and sat up, though the effort cost her; she hung her head, pulling as much oxygen into her failing lungs as she could. "I'm going to need a hand up here, Storm," she muttered.

Hayley was beyond understanding. "What? What are talking about?"

Grunting with the effort, Shepard raised her arm, blood dripping from her index finger and pointed to the bright-white beam of light linking Earth to the Citadel in orbit overhead. "I need to keep going." She coughed again, dropping her arm into her lap. "This has to end."

Shaking her head, Hayley replied, "Fuck that shit. Hell, _I'll_ go."

Climbing to her knees, Shepard gasped painfully, "Appreciate the gesture, Lieutenant, but this one is on me." She grinned, "Had to be me," she said with a choking laugh, echoing Mordin, "Somebody else might have gotten it wrong." Glancing at the pock-marked ground beside her, Shepard closed her fingers around the grip of a fallen handgun. Turning her head to face the lieutenant she added, "That's...that's an order, Lieutenant."

Standing once more, Hayley shook her head, defying orders for the first time in forever. "No. I can't let you just walk away. Let me help you, at least."

Slowly and painfully, Shepard regained her feet, though the various agonies competing for attention forced her into a half-stooped posture. The Spectre shuffled around to face the other woman, considering her words. Spitting blood to one side, she shook her head. "It has to be this way, Hayley. Ever since Eden Prime and the beacon, it's had to be this way. Forgive me."

"For what?" Hayley answered, eyes widening as she realised, too late, Shepard's intent. Moving far faster than Hayley thought possible, Shepard swung the sidearm up, triggering two shots with unerring accuracy. Hayley collapsed, unable to bite back a scream as the bullets cut her legs out from beneath her. For several moments, as she fought back the encroaching waves of blackness, Hayley was aware of nothing save the sickening pain in her knees, muted now as her armour's medical VI detected the injuries and injected medi-gel and pain killers into her bloodstream.

After what seemed like an age, Hayley managed a half-seated position; the irony of her mirroring Shepard not lost upon her, and looked for the Spectre. Narrowing her eyes against the white glare, Hayley barely saw a humanoid figure lurching onwards. The white beam flickered momentarily and the figure was gone. Booted footfalls brought Hayley around, wincing as the motion sent fresh pain through her legs. Admiral Anderson stood before her, face etched with worry. Beside him stood a pair of stretcher bearers. _Now they arrive._

"Lieutenant," Anderson began, urgency evident in his voice. "Where's Shepard?"

Wordlessly, Hayley tilted her head in the direction of the beam.

"Why didn't you stop her?" Anderson demanded.

Hayley bit back her initial retort – telling off the Admiral would not look good on her permanent record. "I tried," she said instead, waving a hand down the length of her legs. "She kneecapped me."

"Oh," was all Anderson said in reply. Half-turning to the medics, he ordered, "See to her," before moving past the semi-crippled woman towards the beam, first jogging, then running, then sprinting. As the medics begin assessing Hayley's condition, Anderson disappeared from sight.

It is the last time she saw either of them.


End file.
